Don't Mess with My Manager
by DreamerDust
Summary: Anyone who messes with the manager of the Amefuto club will face dire consequences. HirumaxMamori


Muro Satoshi is that one guy that Sena and Raimon thought was Musashi. Y'know, that ugly fat guy. I couldn't come up with a cool name so I just used him. So yeah this is my first ES21 fic so there are probably some OOC parts. Sorry.

Disclaimer: Eyeshield 21 belongs to Inagaki and Murata.

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Don't Mess with My Manager

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Anezaki Mamori hurried down the hallway with arms full of copied papers, anxious to finish her final errand so that she could head towards the American Football club. She knew that without her, the clubhouse was most likely to be in chaos under the bullying of the one and only Hiruma Youichi. She sighed as her thoughts probed over him. Mamori had never met anyone in the world who was half as rude and violent as Hiruma was. But she did have to admit that he _was _a masterful strategist and more-than-competent quarterback for the Deimon Devilbats, which would have been admirable traits. But because of Hiruma's terrible reputation, Mamori doubted that most of the high school population knew much about him besides the crazy arsenal of weapons that he always had up his sleeve.

Sighing and wondering whether Hiruma would ever change his ways, Mamori found herself gone too far from the teacher's lounge room, her destination. Tsk-tsking herself for being out of focus, Mamori began walking back towards the teacher's lounge.

And crashed right into another student.

It really wasn't her fault, Mamori thought angrily, as she went down to pick up the fallen papers that fluttered all around, all the while apologizing profusely. i He /i crashed into her first anyway.

But when Mamori reached for a stray copied page, a foot suddenly slammed down centimeters away from her hand. Peeking upwards, Mamori saw that she had seriously chosen the wrong person to crash into.

It was Muro Satoshi of the soccer team.

"Ah um… I'm very very sorry, Muro-kun," Mamori got up slowly, holding an armful of papers, while Muro's leering face became closer and closer, "I didn't mean to, I wasn't watching where I was going—"

Mamori's words were cut off as Muro grabbed her arm, an ugly grin on his fat face, "Hey, you're from that shitty American Football club aren't you? I think I remember you running around with those bastards who challenged me…hm… nice curves…" She tried not to retch as she noticed his buggy eyes roaming her uniform.

"Ah, well that's in the past, isn't it?" Mamori nervously tried to wrench her arm free but it wasn't working. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that other soccer team members were gathering and snickering at the scene.

"What's the point of staying with those losers? They think they can make it to the Christmas Bowl? What a laugh!" Muro's horrendous face came closer and closer to hers, "Why don't you come—"

SLAP.

Mamori's hand lay suspended in the air, her eyes glittering angrily.

"As the American Football Club's manager, I can't allow you to badmouth it any longer," Mamori said icily, "Now please pick up the rest of the papers for me and _apologize_."

But instead, Muro slammed Mamori against the wall, pinning her wrists there. She struggled but couldn't break free. Mamori could smell his foul breath on her face.

"Let go! Let go of me!" Mamori cried, attempting to hit him or kick him but he had her pinned down.

"Hmm… a little girl all along in a club full of boys," He snarled as he made the most horrendous smile Mamori had ever seen. Mamori squeezed her eyes shut as Muro leaned in, "I wonder what happens after prac—"

BOOM.

An explosion rocked the corridor and the acrid smell of gunpowder reached Mamori's nose. She allowed one eye to open and saw that Muro now lay flat on his back against an opposite wall, with singe marks all over his clothes and his hair in flames.

Shakily getting up, Mamori noted that all the copies she had made were now burned to black crisps and sighed.

"YA-HA!" A crazed voice carried down the hall as a tall lanky figure clad in a football uniform bounded down the hall, threading through the smoking bodies of other soccer club members. In his hand, he held a grenade launcher. Hiruma stopped in front of Muro, laughing maniacally, until he turned and saw Mamori.

Mamori's eyes were wide. Had he just…?

"Hey fucking manager, practice started 20 minutes ago. The team wants food."

Irritation and indignant fury burned in Mamori's veins as she exclaimed, "Well, I WOULD have been down there sooner if you didn't burn all the copies I was supposed to make and if …uh… ahm… well I have to go make more copies!"

She ran off towards the copy room, any feeling of gratitude towards Hiruma completely gone.

After Mamori had disappeared, Hiruma looked down as Muro started gaining consciousness. Leaning his grenade launcher against the wall, Hiruma grabbed Muro's collar as his buggy eyes registered who was in front of him.

"Hey fuckin' soccer fatass," Hiruma said dangerously, the low light making his features more and more demonic. Muro gulped, genuinely afraid for his life. He could swear he felt the fires of hell burning in Hiruma's eyes.

"Get your own fuckin' manager."

And with that, Hiruma let go and sauntered off down the hall where Mamori had gone.

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"Ah... finally done," Mamori chimed as she gathered the armful of paper that emerged from the copy machine.

She dutifully turned off the copy machine and opened the door to leave, only to see Hiruma slouching in the hallway.

It was quite an awkward moment.

"Uh…hi… Hiruma-kun," Mamori smiled shakily.

"Gimme some of those."

"Eh?" When Mamori didn't do anything, Hiruma reached across and grabbed nearly all the paper in her arms.

"Where're we going?" Hiruma asked and started walking with the paper all held in one large hand.

"Oh, um the teacher's lounge…" Mamori replied, somewhat dazed. When realization dawned on her that she had been standing in the same spot for a while, she started to walk, following him.

They walked side by side for a while and a gluey silence settled in the air.

"Um thanks, Hiruma-kun," Mamori muttered after a while, not exactly sure what she was thanking him for.

"No big deal," He replied nonchalantly.

Mamori looked up, somewhat surprised at his mellowed answer, but couldn't help smiling.

"What, fuckin' manager?"

"Nothing, nothing."

It wasn't until they had dropped off the papers and Mamori returned to the field with a tray full of onigiri that she discovered that the American football team during their practice hadn't even been hungry to begin with.

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Fin.

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So hopefully this satisfied your HirumaxMamori needs! Their relationship isn't really sappy at all so it comes in these sweet moments. ES21 love!

And just so you guys know, this is a ONE-SHOT and I will not be writing more chapters. I may write more Hirumamo in the future, but I will not continue this story.

DreamerDust


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